


The Accountant and the Archer

by flightinflame



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Office, Archery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2126082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil is absolutely dreading the annual work getaway.  Things brighten slightly when he meets the archery instructor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Accountant and the Archer

Phil yawned, staring blankly out of the window and watching the countryside speed past as the coach cruised along the highway. He turned his attention to his watch, flicking it off of the internet setting to check the time, then groaned and settled back in his seat.

Sitwell, sat next to him and already smelling vaguely of expensive whisky, poked his arm.  
"Something up? Anyone'd think you weren't glad about a few days off work."  
Phil shrugged his shoulders.  
"To be honest, I'm not sure I am. Team building exercises at an outdoors center? I work in an office for a reason. I like being inside. I'm not an outdoorsy, long hikes through damp woodlands kind of guy. I like being at a computer. The outdoors has too much nature." It wasn't the first time he had explained this to his colleagues, but apparently company retreats were compulsory. He didn’t particularly fancy arguing with Fury about it.  
"Yeh." Sitwell snorted. "But it's not like the team building's the point of the trip. The point of the trip is the free bar."

"Oh. Joy." Phil muttered, turning his back slightly to Sitwell, who shook his head.  
"You do drink right?"   
"Yes. I drink." Phil answered, biting down on the urge to follow that by saying "It's not all I do." He knew that was unfair. It wasn't Sitwell’s fault that Phil been forced to go on this trip, and at least Jasper was trying to be friendly about it.

He'd calm down when he got there. At least it was only for a few days, and then he'd be back home in his comfortable cubicle where he liked it. He had the decor set out just how he wanted there - photographs of beautiful architecture from around the globe. So many wonderful places that he wanted to go to. When he visited those though, he planned to stay in a luxury hotel, not some cabin.

The scenery looked much more beautiful in the photographs than what was going past the window but the view at least gave him something to concentrate on as they carried on, until the coach pulled up at the High Trees Activity Center. 

Phil rolled his eyes. He didn't like this. He'd been on these retreats before, and he did not enjoy them because it always ended up being absolute chaos with people severely drunk or else severely hungover on the coach home. Still, he climbed out with the rest of them, grabbing the black wheeled suitcase from the hold, and murmured thanks to the coach driver.

A young woman wearing a black vest shirt with the logo emblazoned on her chest and her curly red hair tied back in a ponytail bounced forwards and smiled at them, gesturing around.  
"Hello, and welcome to High Trees. I'm Natasha, I help run the High Trees Center. It's great to see you all. I hope that you enjoy your time here, and that you make the most of our facilities. We've got a busy weekend planned for you all."

Phil tried to force a smile as the others talked around him. He wanted to at least seem polite.   
"This morning, we're going to go for a brief walk just to show you around the site, and then after that we have some activities planned for you. We've got an archery session after lunch, and then some team building exercises before a chance for dinner and drinks. The evening is for you to do what you want with. Tomorrow morning there's a longer walk with an assault course, and then a conference about goals for the coming year. Finally, in the evening there’s a meal and some more drinks, and your coach will be coming to get you after dinner.” She explained, before leading them all over to the cabins where they would be staying. 

The cabins were divided into large relatively basic rooms. There would be four people in each room, each having a single bed with a cabinet beside it. Phil had a room with Sitwell, Fitz and Garrett. There were two people he liked there, so he supposed it could be worse. He deposited his bag on one of the beds before heading out to join the rest of the group.

What followed was an hour long trek along the site, past various assault courses and around the fields of the outdoors center. Everyone was talking among themselves, and even the young woman leading the group seemed a little bored. 

Phil let his mind wander, busy making plans for what to do once he got home. He'd make himself some coffee and eat some cookies, and then he'd lay on the couch and watch adventure movies. It was much more enjoyable to watch energetic young men carrying out assault courses and doing exercises than it was for him to do them himself.

He was startled from his thoughts when he saw a man around his age, wearing a shirt matching Natasha’s. He was leaning against a fence, with archery targets set out behind him, and smirking. 

For the first time since they arrived here, Phil felt his mood improving a great deal. The man was rather stunning with vivid blue eyes shaded by his blonde hair. He looked strong, his muscled arms exposed by the cut of his shirt, and a cocky smile resting on his lips.

He was holding a bow, a quiver resting at his side.  
"Natasha?" Phil asked her curiously. "Is that our archery instructor?"  
Natasha gave him a knowing smile, and patting him on the arm.  
"It is. Have you found a reason to pay a little more attention?" She asked, before leaning in and winking at him. "He’s my best friend here. His name's Clint, and he's single."

Phil nodded at her gratefully.  
"Thanks." He made sure that he was at the front of the group as they walked over, holding out his hand.  
Clint’s hand seized his and shook it firmly, a strong and determined grip, and Phil could feel the callouses there. Clint grinned at him and then stepped back, gesturing out toward the entire group.  
"Hello everyone. I'm Clint, and I'm going to be teaching you archery today. Natasha will be helping, and my friend Kate will be along shortly, but I'm in charge."

Clint turned, pulling three arrows in turn from the quiver, notching them and sending each of them towards the dead center of the targets.  
“See? That’s why I’m in charge.”   
There was applause from a couple of Phil’s colleagues in response. 

Phil tried not to smile, but couldn’t help himself. He applauded as well as Clint’s eyes settled on him, and Clint looked him up and down.  
"I'm going to need a volunteer for demonstrations... You?" He pointed at Phil, who stepped forwards and held up a hand.  
"Of course." Phil answered. "That sounds good to me." He had always liked the idea of archery, and whilst he didn’t exactly like being called up in front of everyone, doing this demonstration meant he would get a chance to get a closer look at Clint. He reached for the bow.

Clint smirked at him.   
"Slow down.” He told him gently. “Okay, hold your hands out in front of you, then look through the gap in your fingers, like this... bring your hand up to your face, not looking away... there..." Clint demonstrated. "Brilliant. You're right handed when it comes to shooting, that makes things easier. Hold this bow, your fingers wrapped around the body of it..." He guided Phil’s hands, standing close to him.

"Now,..." Clint slid an archery tab over the fingers of Phil’s free hand. "That's to protect them, now pull the string back..."  
Phil attempted it, pulling it as hard as he could.  
"Not quite." Clint answered, correcting Phil’s posture slightly. "You need to hold the string just under your chin, that's it... now put the bow back down."

Phil obeyed, and Clint notched an arrow onto the string.  
"Pull it back, careful not to knock it or it'll fall off the arrow rest..." He instructed him. "That's perfect. Now look through the sight, and get the red spot in the middle of the gold..."

Phil tried to do so, his hands shaking slightly as he fought to hold the bow still.  
"That's it. Now, release it." Clint instructed.  
Phil let the string slip from his fingers, and the arrow went flying, the bow shaking in his hands. 

A moment later, there was a solid thud as the arrow thumped into the red ring on the target.  
"Good work there. That's it, just like that. A few more goes, and you'll be scoring tens with every shot." Clint praised him, patting Phil’s shoulder. "Good work..." His voice trailed off.  
"Phil."  
"Thanks. Good work Phil. Now everyone pair up, Natasha, Kate and me are going to watch you, make sure that you've got it right. Six arrows, then let your partner have a go. No one cross over that line on the ground until everyone's shot all their arrows" Clint explained, staying close to Phil as Simmons walked over to Phil and reached for the bow.

It turned out that Simmons was not only not very good at archery, she was practically dangerous. Every time she went to release the arrow she would knock it from the rest, and it would go flying to the side. On the fourth attempt, it jumped to the left so far that it hit the next target along, landing in the blue.

Clint frowned as he looked over at it.  
"I'm not entirely sure that we can count that one you know? Good work though, at least you've scored."   
Simmons laughed slightly, and notched the next arrow. As she went to pull the bow back, Phil stopped her.  
"Hey... try... try having your fingers further apart?" He suggested, and Clint gave him an approving nod. Simmons did so, careful now not to bring them into contact with the string, and when she released the arrow it flew straighter than before, thudding into the black at the bottom of the target.

"Much better." Clint praised. "Have another go." With that, the instructor turned his attention to another group, and Phil talked Simmons through firing again.  
"Thanks Phil." Simmons patted Phil on the arm and handed over the bow. "Now, why don't you show me how it's done?"

Phil shot again.  
"No..." Clint clicked his tongue, attention returning to them. "Give that here..." He held his hands out for the bow, pulling it back and anchoring the string against his chin. "See, it has to go right here, so you do the same thing each time."  
"Thank you." Clint took the bow back, attempting to follow his instructions.  
"Much better. Knew you could do it handsome."

The rest of the lesson passed in a blur, with Phil finding that he rather enjoyed archery, even if he was much less keen on searching in the long grass for any arrows that Simmons had lost. When Natasha guided the group off for a team building exercise, Phil lingered, watching Clint pulling arrows free of the straw targets.

"You okay there?" Clint asked, looking over to him, shoving the final arrow into his quiver and walking over to him, hand reaching out to rest on Phil’s arm. "You did really well today."  
"I enjoyed it." Phili answered. "I haven't shot before... I mean, maybe at Scouts years ago, but...it was a lot more fun than I remembered it being. Of course, the teacher helped."  
"Glad I could help." Clint grinned. "Shouldn't you be with the others?"  
"Just wondered if you might like to go for a drink later." Phil offered, the words slipping from his lips before he had registered what he was saying.

Silence hung between the two of them for a few moments, before Clint’s expression split in a wide grin.  
"Sounds good. I'll see you at the bar at eight. Now, you better go catch up with the others, I've got a bunch of girl scouts to teach."  
Phil laughed, walking off after the rest of them.

Phil went along with the others to the team building exercise, scrabbling over obstacles with a jug of water held out in front of him, keeping it at arm's length in an attempt to prevent himself from getting soaked. It wasn't quite working - the arms of his shirt were now wringing wet, but at least the rest of him had managed to stay comparatively dry. He was at least doing better than poor Fitz, who was soaked.

He glanced over to one side in time to see Garrett slip slightly as he clambered over a step, sloshing water all over his shirt and in his hair, then looked away to try and hide his smile, sprinting along the final piece of the course to pour the jug's contents into the waiting bucket, and hand the jug over to the next person in his team.

As Phil watched Simmons sprinting off, the water seeming to jump from the jug, he relaxed a little. He was really looking forwards to this evening now.  
"You look happy." Sitwell muttered as he walked up to him, attempting to squeeze the water from the front of his shirt to little success.  
"I am."  
"Saw you flirting with the archer earlier." Sitwell teased.   
"Did you see him?" Phil asked. "Anyone in their right mind would have been flirting."

Sitwell shrugged slightly, but patted Phil on the back.  
"You coming out with the rest of us later or are you still being a killjoy about it all?"  
"Oh, I would go, only I've got a better offer." Phil answered. Sitwell shook his head.  
"Sure you do." He wandered away, and Phil turned his attention back to the rest of his team, cheering them on.

***

Later that evening Phil made his way to the bar. The rest of the group were already clustered in a booth off to one side laughing raucously, but Phil walked past them, eyes scanning the room nervously, afraid that he would find he had been stood up. 

"Hey handsome." Clint’s voice sounded from beside him, as the man reached out to pat Phil’s shoulder then slide his hand down his back. Phil wrapped his arm around Clint’s waist, comfortable around him.  
"Hey yourself." Phil murmured, walking over to the bar, mirroring Clint’s actions. "Can I get you a beer?"

Clint grinned, then shook his head.   
"Look, I work here, I get free drinks." He grinned at the guy behind the bar. "Beer for me and... you want a beer?" At Phil’s nod, he continued. "Yeh, two beers please." 

They were handed over, and Clint grabbed them both, letting go of Phil almost reluctantly and heading along to a quiet corner table, a long way away from where Phil’s colleagues were getting drunk.  
"Thanks for this." Clint started. "I really...I appreciate it. I get... I'm probably not the kind of guy you normally spend your time on but...I enjoyed earlier a lot."

Phil felt himself frowning as he looked at Clint critically.  
"You're kidding right?" He squeezed his hand. "You're gorgeous. And funny, and ... you're stunning when you shoot. I'm just an accountant in a pokey little office."

"You're smart." Clint grinned, taking a swig of his beer. "I'm not. I flunked high school. Looking at getting my GED, but numbers man..." He shook his head. "I can't do them."  
"I couldn't teach people to shoot." Phil answered, considering something. "What are you up to tomorrow?"  
"It's my day off, so not much, why? Think I might get some shopping in the afternoon, but other than that I'm free."  
"I could help you with some maths if you wanted."  
"Really?" Clint raised an eyebrow. "I'm a pretty rubbish student."   
"How about we practice archery as well?" Phil suggested. "You're a good teacher. I don't know, we could work through six maths questions, then shoot six arrows or something like that?"  
"Sounds good." Clint agreed. "Thank you. So, tell me all the gossip about your colleagues..."

***

The next morning was warm and the sun was shining. Phil grabbed a notepad and pen, made his excuses to the rest of the group and headed over to the targets where Clint was waiting. The archer waved enthusiastically to see him.

"It's good to see you. No second thoughts about our date?"  
"None at all." Phil answered. "Only question is do you want to start with maths or archery?"  
"Maths." Clint said confidently. "Might as well start with the more boring one. Plus it's the one that doesn't give me an excuse to get close to you."  
"I like how you think." Phil replied, leaning against the fence and pulling the notebook from his pocket, scribbling down a few questions. Then he began the slow process of talking Clint through simplifying algebraic equations.

Clint frowned, but paid attention to what was being said, and by the sixth question was working things out by himself, listing off each step in turn and looking at Phil for approval, which Phil was happy to give.

Once the first set of maths questions had been completed it was time to shoot, and it was here that Clint came in to his own, gripping the bow firmly in demonstration then guiding Phil through the motions, heaping praise on to him as the arrows thudded solidly into the straw of the target.

When all six arrows had been shot, Clint called out Phil’s score and pulled the arrows back out, and then it was back to some more mathematics.

It was nearly lunchtime by the time Phil was getting tired. His arms were a little sore from holding up the bow, but he had noticed that Clint was already getting far more confident with maths – it was unsurprising, given that Clint had no problem calculating archery scores. His own scores had shot up in the time they had spent together. He lowered the bow, trying to stifle a yawn, and Clint embraced him tightly.

"Thanks for that. I'd better be off, but..." He murmured against his ear. "I think we're really... I think we really got somewhere, you know?"  
"I do. You were doing great." Phil reassured him, returning the hug. "It was good fun."  
"You think you might want to do it again some time?" Clint asked. "I mean, I can always drive over to yours. If you wanted to. We could always have another date like this if you'd..."  
"I'd love that." Phil answered, his hand resting over Clint’s own. “Maybe we could have other dates as well.”

"Yeh. That sounds good." Clint answered, leaning in to kiss Phil softly, brushing his lips over Phil’s own. Phil mirrored his movements, opening his mouth a moment later and deepening the kiss, feeling Clint pressing closer against him.

Eventually they pulled apart, looking up at each other. Clint darted in and pressed his lips against Phil’s for a moment longer, then straightened up.  
"Here." He muttered, scribbling his number down on Phil’s notepad, then fishing around in his pocket, and pulling out a small metallic arrow head. "You hang onto this. Remember to text me when you get home, let me know if you want to meet up?"  
"Sure." Phil carefully tucked the arrowhead into his pocket, running his finger over the cool metal. "I... I'll see you soon."  
"Yes." Clint answered. "Definitely."

Phil headed over to join the others for lunch, a soft smile on his face as he thought about Clint, already planning their next date. He couldn't get over how right it felt to be around Clint, how comfortable and relaxed he felt around him. 

Sitwell gave him a knowing look.   
"Didn't see you at the bar last night."  
"Like I said, I had a better offer." Phil answered, his hand resting on his pocket, feeling the outline of the arrowhead within. He ate his lunch quickly, thinking of his private archery lesson earlier. He didn't feel that eager to talk to his colleagues, but that wasn't overly important, as most of them were rather hung-over from the previous night. He was almost sorry to have missed their attempts at the assault course, but looked forwards to seeing how well or otherwise they coped with the conference.

***

"Have a safe journey home!" Natasha concluded her farewell speech with a flourishing wave. The group headed back to the coach, some staggering from the large quantity of wine consumed with dinner, others walking with their heads held high, stumbling only occasionally. Phil hung back and watched them going, then approached Natasha.

"Thank you. I had a really good evening last night."   
"You're welcome?" She replied uncertainly, before she recognized him. "Oh, that's great, I'm glad. I did wonder where he was, we normally all grab a meal on Saturday evenings."  
"Guilty I'm afraid." Phil answered. "But yes, thank you. I'd best be going now."  
"Maybe I'll see you around? It’s good for Clint to have someone who values him, so you’d better come back."  
"I’ll come back if he’ll have me." Phil headed off to the waiting coach, making his way to an empty window seat, and then removing his phone and the arrowhead from his pocket.

Phil looked at the arrowhead for a few moments, then slipped it away, turning his attention to his phone and typing out a quick message.  
"Had a great time today. See you soon x" He hit send.

He looked out of the window, watching the countryside rushing past, planning how he could improve the personal effects around his desk. Maybe some photographs to show his newly discovered passion for archery. And definitely this arrowhead, by the computer so that he could see it as he typed. 

He was startled from his reverie as the phone in his hand buzzed with a reply, and he glanced down to see Clint’s answer.  
"Can't wait. You keep up, you'll be beating my scores in no time."

"Only because I've had a good teacher." Phil answered, pocketing his phone and letting himself daydream.


End file.
